


The Competition

by RideBoldlyRide



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Zutara Fluff Exchange, but likes to play it off, but the cuddles after the fact are so worth it, katara is the best storyteller, somewhat referencing a concept art I saw posted, we needed a break, you can’t convince me otherwise, zukos a scaredy-cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RideBoldlyRide/pseuds/RideBoldlyRide
Summary: For the Zutara Fluff Exchange 2020Katara is a great story teller. Zuko never had any doubts about that. But their children don’t quite seem so pleased at this revelation.A slice of life with older Zutara, and their subsequent steambabies.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 98
Collections: Zutara Fluff Exchange





	The Competition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lettersfromnowhere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersfromnowhere/gifts).



> I have forgotten how to fluff. Especially in short bursts. 
> 
> I need plot! I need to build the angst to make the fluff sweeter! I need t— oh fine. 1k it is. I hope you enjoy this, my dear friend!

“...so as the children would climb into their beds," - the small fort of blankets and cushions seemed oppressively small in the dark as the children clung tightly to their father - "that the woman who was not-quite-Mother would lean in," - the storyteller exaggerated the motion as she too leaned in, clutching the candle before her - "and as she would blow out the candle above their beds she would whisper -"

A puff of air and the tent fell into darkness. Zuko could swear that that air felt chilly, even as the sweat prickled against his skin. It was a hoarse whisper in the fort as she spoke.

"- ' _have you seen them_?'"

He fought hard to hold back the shiver down his spine, for the sake of the three children clinging to him, as they gasped and dug into his sides and chest. Forcing a small laugh into his voice, he snapped the candle back to life. All four jumped, including Zuko, despite being the one to light it. Across from him, his sweet, kind wife was smiling viciously. She was the only one not to jump.

"Alright, I think Mommy won that round, kids."

"And," her voice was sweet, a vast contrast to the deep, husky tone she had used through her storytelling. “I do believe it’s bedtime.”    
  
A chorus of complaints hit her ears, but she raised a hand to silence them. Zuko shifted under the children, and they all clung tighter. He leaned towards his wife as she moved to leave, a devious look in his eye.    
  
“I agree, it is in fact bedtime.” She rose a brow at his playful tone, stopping her motion. “And since Mommy decided to tell the scary story right before bed, I think she should be the one helping you all to bed, don’t you think?”

Her mouth opened to offer a retort - it had been his idea, the fort and scary stories, after all - but she was quickly silenced as the children relinquished their hold on him and glomped onto Katara’s robes. 

“Yeah, Mom! Can you tell us another story?” The eldest pressed.

“No, thank you.” Their middle shuddered.

“Can we keep the oil lamp burning tonight?” The youngest clung, her voice muffled in the robes she had buried her face into. 

A significant look of betrayal passed from the Fire Lady to her husband. He merely smirked in return, before bending to plant soft pecks on the hairlines of his children and bid them goodnight.

* * *

He was settled comfortably in bed, studying a scroll, by the time she had finally entered the room. An unassuming oil lamp cast the room in flickering shadows, and she took a moment to soak in the way the glow danced across her husband’s features. It was a simple kind of joy as she took in the start of smile lines that now sat permanently etched at the corner of his lips, the slight silvered strands in his now loose hair that glowed golden in the firelight, the small scars across his hands that caught ever so slightly in the light. They were pieces of him, testaments to who he was. 

The grand was written across his skin, as brands and marks. But the small, the minute, was written  _ in  _ his skin, or worn as a crown, even more brilliant than the one upon his nightstand. 

How could she not love him more each day?

Katara stepped away for the door frame she had leaned upon, and into the flickering light. With a deft hand, she began shifting off her more formal robes, now wrinkled beyond repair, and into her simple night shift. When she turned back, she found his eyes on her, a slight smile on his face, the scroll now loose in his hands. She returned the smile as she slipped into bed beside him.

“The kids were near impossible to get to sleep.”

“And who’s fault was that?” Twisting, he placed the scroll aside on the stand.

“Yours.” She snuggled against him even before he had turned. 

A chuckle escaped him as he moved her around his waist and settled down beside her. “Mine? I distinctly remember telling a story that  _ didn’t _ leave our children scarred.”

“You should know better, Zuko, I don’t like losing.”

Her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear his laugh before it escaped his lips. “Oh, I know. And I definitely think you won.”

His fingers wound in her hair as he pressed his lips to her forehead. She sighed contentedly. 

“But I think I’m going to win tonight.”

“Oh?” She shifted against him, glancing up to see his eyes molten in the moonlight. “Oh.”

He gave her a hungry smile. She returned it. Arms pulling her in tighter, his warm hands trailed down her curves, and she shifted against him. A graze of his thumb at her hip bone sent sparks up her spine, and she greedily met his lips, and his smile faded into something darker. An arm wrapped around her waist, he turned them in tandem, her back in the soft cushion of the bed, his weight above her. 

“I definitely think tonight, I’m going to wi—“

“Mom? Dad?”

Zuko’s head dropped to her collarbone in defeat, as a soft groan escaped him. Wrapping her fingers in his hair, she chuckled. 

A few moments later, their bed now overfilled with three young children between them, she reached above their heads to where her husband’s hand also stretched towards her. Their fingers intertwined, and Katara smiled happily at him. He couldn’t fight back the matching smile that split his face. However, over the collective heads, her smile turned smug. Quietly, she spoke.

“Looks like I still win.”

Across the way from her, the Fire Nation’s most powerful man stuck his tongue out at her.


End file.
